


Anywhere but Here

by GhostNox181



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, M/M, home sick, i don't even know what genre this is, tony is captured, tony wants to go home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 23:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostNox181/pseuds/GhostNox181
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know where he is or how long he's been there or when the last time he slept was. All he knows is he really wants to go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere but Here

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my prompt fill for zephyrscribe: who asked for stony, home sick.
> 
> I got another prompt for the same, but that one asked for more fluffy so I went less fluffy here. Actually, I really liked this one. Home sick isn’t easy while trying to stay in character. I hope you like it; it was fun to write.

“This is ridiculous!” Tony shouted, sinking to the floor and burying his face in his hands. “I need coffee.”

“Jarvis-” He started to call out before he remembered that Jarvis was back home, at the tower, with everyone else. Not here, wherever _here_ was. _Here_ had been fine at first. He could live _here;_ it was almost a complete replica of his workshop. Except there was no Jarvis, and there was no coffee _here_.

And Tony had begun seeing things _here_.

He knew the images his mind was showing him were only projections of his tired, hungry, and severely sleep-deprived mind. He was a genius, after all. That didn’t make them any less real.

“Go away. Go away, Steve. You aren’t real,” Tony muttered, curling just a bit in on himself, hiding from the man sitting at his workshop table.

“What does this do, Tony?” the man, no, _hallucination,_ asked as he picked up the newest piece of weaponry that Tony had been forced to make.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? It’s going to be used against the real you and I’ll be at fault,” Tony sighed, turning his head so he couldn’t see the fake Steve staring at him in concern.

“It’s not your fault, Tony. We can’t blame you for something like this,” Steve assured him, glancing around the workshop Tony was confined to with a weary expression.

Tony said nothing and instead leaned back against the wall of the workshop, exhausted. He had no idea how long he’d been _here_ as his concept of sleep and time was already screwy at best. Nor did he have an idea how much longer they, whoever that happened to be, planned on keeping him. If they even planned on letting him go at all.

It was Afghanistan all over again. He was slightly happy to note that he was not in a cave, and he already had his arc reactor and didn’t have to build one. But there was no Yinsen _here_ to keep him company and even though he had all the necessary tools to build another Iron Man, the people holding him had… none too gently explained to him why that wasn’t a good idea. His ribs were still healing and ached at the thought of attempting escape.

Tony never thought he’d admit it, but he missed his own workshop. He missed Jarvis worrying over him and Pepper forcing him into business meetings or social parties. He missed Thor’s booming voice and the way he accidentally broke things and looked pathetic as he tried to apologize. He missed Natasha’s daily death threats and Clint randomly dropping from the ceiling. He missed having Bruce to be smart with, because heaven knows Tony could hardly find anyone else to be smart with. He would even stretch as far and say he missed Coulson just _being_ there, everywhere, like a goddamn nanny, and Fury’s condescending tones as he spoke to all of them.

He wanted to go home so badly, it had made him start hallucinating.

Because really, he missed Steve the most. Steve, who would demand that Tony leave the workshop and eat _right now_ or else Steve was going to make him. Steve, who had half-carried, half-dragged Tony to bed when Tony was practically a dead man walking but too stubborn to listen to anyone. Steve, who was the first person Tony saw when he got out of the hospital when his latest update to the Iron Man suit went awry, and then proceeded to take care of Tony until Tony was practically begging for some peace and quiet.

Steve, who had probably noticed Tony’s absence and Jarvis’ silence long before anyone else, and had called an official Avenger’s meeting, only further proving his point when Tony didn’t show because even hung-over or sick or tired, Tony _always_ showed. Steve, who probably initiated the search because he knew Tony and he was concerned for Tony’s health and safety as he was the most vulnerable of the Avengers without his suit. Steve, who was probably still pushing the group to look for Tony because he refused to just give up and admit that it had been weeks of not even the tiniest sign that Tony was even still alive.

Steve, who was currently sitting in front of Tony as a hallucination because Tony was homesick and lonely and tired and missed him, even if he would never dare admit it to anyone but his subconscious.

“We’ll find you, Tony. We’ll find you,” Steve stated reassuringly, getting up from his spot to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony pretended he couldn’t feel the imagined warmth, the imagined strength and security that almost, almost but not quite, made Tony believe his imaginary Steve was telling the truth.

“You better, Cap. I need coffee,” Tony muttered, his eyes drooping as exhaustion took over. He had no idea how long he had been awake or how long it had been since he last passed out from overexertion only to woken up by an electric shock and extremely loud alarms, and he was not looking forward to it again.

“Go to sleep, Tony. You’ll be home before you know it.”

Tony fought it, as he always did. He wasn’t sure anymore, if he was fighting to stay awake out of his natural stubbornness or out of fear of the consequences that befell when his captors noticed he was not up and about. It didn’t matter much, whichever it was. Tony was sore and hungry and weak and tired and even if the alarms rang to wake him up, and the electric shock pulsed through the room, he didn’t think he’d be able to do much. He had no energy. Still, he fought it.

“Sleep. I’m here.”

Lacking the energy to tell his subconscious that he wasn’t actually there, Tony fell asleep against the hard wall of his fake workshop, leaning ever so slightly against his fake Steve, listening to the fake whisperings of comfort from his mind. He woke hazily only once, when the alarms went off to get him moving again, and found his Steve crouching in front of him, smiling in relief.

“Found you.”

And Tony only blinked and gave a tiny grin to show he understood before sleep fell again, muttering a single phrase to the figure.

“I want to go home now.”

He never even noticed as his hallucination picked him up and carried him from the room to the rest to the rest of the crew, who all shared looks of relief, and they began the long journey back to Jarvis and coffee.

And Steve.


End file.
